


Rise Atlas, Rise

by StrawberrySkies



Category: BioShock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrySkies/pseuds/StrawberrySkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who Is Atlas? A man of character, for the people, a working class citizen. He is also a husband, and finds himself thrust into the position of a liberator and revolutionary. Thrust into such a turbulent environment he finds that he must ether overcome the monstrosities that lurk beneath Raptures jovial surface, or succumb to their madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Prelude**

 

"We've gotto go now, Moira my luv' " Said Atlas, putting a hand to his wife's shoulder. His nails were torn away to the nub from nervous chewing in a disgusting habit, one of them recently having started bleed, the crusted substance still coating the ridge. His fingers and palms were calloused and rough though his touch on her was light as a feather, not wishing to harm the petite woman. The man pushed a lock of her auburn hair away from her ear, leaning down and gently kissing her rosy cheek from behind, one of his muscular arms coming around her waist and encircling it, holding her close to his body.  
Moira still didn’t look to him, trancelike in how her hazel eyes stared at their tiny empty cramped one room flat. The only thing left were some newspaper pages that littered the ground, giving the space an abandoned feel. She leaned back against her husband, a frown playing over her pale pink lips. They stayed that way for far longer than they should have before Atlas suddenly lifted the woman in a firemans carry in his arms.  
“Onto bigger and better things darlin’!“ He said, turning his back on the apartment and passing over the threshold for the last time. The hallway he entered was narrow and he could hardly fit them in this awkward position through. Still he didn’t let the mrs’ down, starting to pick up his step as he went for the stairs.  
Moira smiled up at Atlas “You always say that.” her voice was stronger than one might have expected from her small frame. There was power to it, a richness, though it wasn’t exactly soothing to the ear. It sounded a bit harsh at times, like her tones were just a tad more hard then they should be. However it was Atlas loved the sound of it and how well it went with his own when they sang. His own voice was so soothing, like buttermilk. The sound of it was enough to make you trust him, he was the sort you would gladly follow into a darkened alley based on inflection alone. Both of them had the sweet irish lilt to each of their words, a trait that made everything seem much more pleasant.  
“Thats becus’ its true! Always onto better” He grinned happily taking the stairs two at a time, causing her to tighten her grip about his shoulders for fear of falling “I’m still workin’ on making you a Queen, ‘member?”. Moira was about to respond when they hit the landing with a thud and a door to their left opened wide to reveal three children looking to them. The first one to speak was a little boy of about three, scrawny with mousy brown hair like his two sisters “Lat’las!!” He called, holding up his arms to be lifted. The black haired man regretfully placed his wife on the ground and easily lifted the boy onto his hip. Just as he did this the childrens mother entered the scene, a baby in her arms and another child holding onto her skirts and peaking out just a tad up at their neighbor. The woman had a worn hardened look to her, a lady who had suffered much throughout life. Still upon seeing the happy young couple she managed to find a smile.  
“Off already I see?” Asked she, bouncing the baby in her arms a tad to keep him from crying. Moira answered her seeing as Atlas was preoccupied with talking to the boy “Yessum’ we are” slowly the look in her eye grew sad “You’ll take care of yerself just right?”. The older woman patted Moiras shoulder in a comforting way “We’ll be just fine, go on now” she made shooing motions with her free arm “Get on out of this ‘ere hell hole!”. Moira faked a warm smile, kissed the lady on the cheek in thanks and took Atlas’ arm.  
Atlas put the boy down rubbing the top of his head affectionately and then they started down the hallway. The womens children who could walk ran down the hallway after them, causing such a ruckus others opened their doors to see what the commotion was about. When they caught sight of Atlas their interest seemed peaked and everyone tried to make a conversation with him.  
They noticed the napsack on his back and realized this must be the day, the day they were leaving this complex for ‘bigger and better’ as Atlas constantly insisted.  
“Todays the big day?”.  
“Oh Atlas I can’t believe it, feels like yesterday when I met you.”.  
“You don’t forget us you here?”.  
By the time they reached the door to outside they had quite the posse. They continued to follow him out of the door, the children running about and laughing, the adults trying to get their goodbyes in. A man on crutches shook Atlas hand “You were a lifesaver to me back there…. I can never thank you enough.”. Atlas shook his hand warmly back “You don’t need to, my pleasure Edgar.”. He flashed a smile showing straight white teeth. Moira had gotten herself embroiled in a conversation with a woman as they all continued down the street towards the dock.  
It was filthy where they were, the streets filled with litter and refuse, it smelled liked a mixture of rotting fish and decaying wood, plus an overwhelming aroma of sickness. They lived in the poorest quarter of town, where everyone was packed on top of one another like sardines and there was hardly enough room to properly breath. Still for some reason these miserable and downtrodden faces suddenly lit up at the sight of the able bodied and charismatic Irishman.

At last, and after picking up a few more men from the pub to join their group of about thirteen peoples, they had arrived at the dock. By some miracle the ship they were boarding was still there, though not for long. Moira hugged a few of the woman who had come to wish them luck and Atlas shook his last hands, giving them all a strong pat on the shoulder. There was a whistle from the massive steamer and Moira seized her husbands hand and pulled him onto the rickety wooden walkway that lead over the freezing waters and onto the ship. A few other last minute stragglers joined them and soon everything was packed on board and ready to go. Another loud blast and they felt the hunk of metal and wood start to move away from land and out to the great blue ocean.  
Moira waved from the edge, yelling still more goodbyes and blowing the occasional kiss. Atlas merely stood, hand around her waist, the other hand on the rail looking stoically out to the people who had felt drawn to him. No matter where he went, for as long as he could remember, Atlas had the power to draw a crowd, the ability to lead in any situation.  
As they grew further and further away until simply specs Moira stopped at last, leaning against her husband. He moved his head to kiss the top of hers. She smiled and looked up at him “Well if you’re to make me a Queen, I suppose you’ll be a King, eh?”. Atlas smiled back down at her, his blue eyes full of love and devotion “Aye, I’ll be a King.” and they kissed.

Onto bigger and better things, below the great blue oceans placid surface, where a great city was slowly being constructed. That great city where Atlas was bound, as a mere worker today, mighty king tomorrow.


	2. Ships on Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first day aboard ship.

Atlas turned from staring at the land as it grew into little more than a distance speck. He turned Moira with him and they both surveyed the ship. It was a bustle of activity, men moving too and fro their arms bared and faces red from the hours spent working under a hot sun. The Irishman was starting to think they should really have tried to make it here when they were suppose to, he honestly wasn't sure where they were suppose to be. However, he wasn't one for asking for help and so he started out in a general direction of the deck to experimentally see if anyone stopped him. They were passengers after all, certainly someone would notice and relocate the couple. Instead of something helpful all he got were dirty looks as he moved in the way of the crew. Moira saw this, and knew Atlas wouldn't do a damn thing about it, having a nonsensical notion that asking things made one weak. In reality it helped one to gain knowledge. However she stayed silent on that front and walked across the wooden boards to collect her Husband by the arm. 

She lead him from others way and searched for someone who didn't seem to be busy, or at least someone who might know where they were suppose to be. Atlas walked just in front of his wife, giving the illusion that he was leading them when in fact he turned at any small tug from her slender fingers. She had successfully located one of the men leaning idly against the rail, looking over at the swirling ocean below. Moira made a beeline for him and soon after gently tapped at his forearm “Excuse me sir..”. He turned and his expression told that his initial reaction was to reply something nasty, however that expression softened when he saw the pretty young lady standing in front of him. ‘Sure, her face could use some work, but what a bod..’ He thought, looking her up and down. This little exchange did not go unnoticed by Atlas, who wrapped a protective arm around her, staring coldly at the other.   
Evidently Moira did miss the mans up-and-down, or else chose to ignore it so as to avoid a scene, because she continued right along “We came a wee bit late… We’re passengers..”.   
The crewman gave a short guffaw “That I can tell, Missy.”. A small frown passed over her lips “Yes.. right.. well we was wonderin’ where exactly are the” she turned slightly red, forgetting the simple word for their ships living quarters “Ah.. cabin! Cabins are so… so we can get right on outta yer way.”. 

“Right well you both are…?” Started the blond-haired man.

“Atlas and Moira O'Galt.” Atlas said, continuing to glare at the other, as if daring him to take a look at his wife again. The man did not accept his challenge, instead leading them both below deck. It was terribly narrow and claustrophobic down here, the walkway dimly lit. He walked to the third door in and knocked on it before pushing the door open. Inside there were three people already, in a space little larger than a closet. All three were sitting on the ground a game of cards out. There was a cot folded up on one end, one man sitting on it as a chair. There were also two hammock-like beds that hung from the ceiling, clipped up out of the way. 

“More?” Said the man sitting on the cot, who was in the midst of dealing out a beaten to hell deck. 

“These are the last.” Offered the sailor. He didn’t as much as bid them a farewell before leaving them to become acquainted with their roommates. 

Atlas entered and immediately tried to take up as little room as possible. Moira went and sat herself in the corner while the man leaned against the wall. Now he wasn't the sort to let silence reign. He held out his hand to the first man, a sandy-blond youth, likely of eighteen or nineteen, the one currently in possession of the card deck.  
“I’m Atlas, Kid.” Said the Irishman, his handshake firm and gruff against the boys hand. His skin was smooth, he hadn't worked a day in his life nearly as hard as Atlas was constantly subjected too. It showed in more than just his skins texture, his body was more lean with less muscle. 

“Thomas.” He said back, grinning broadly from ear to ear.   
Atlas moved onto his other fellows, one a rather plump woman with light brown locks and man with black hair and a mustache. First he extended his hand to the man, who took it firmly giving it a friendly shake “Winstons the name, Winston Hoffner. This here is my wife, Cecilia.”. He seemed a man of high spirits and a quality upbringing. Not rich, but not from the slums like the other three. However he didn’t seem all that haughty or self-absorbed, instead was likely a humanitarian at heart. 

“Atlas” Said Atlas once again “And Moira.” He motioned to her position on the floor. She gave a meak wave, seasickness starting to hit her hard. Once the formalities were out of the way he took a seat beside his wife, pulling her into him and gently rubbing her back. She buried her face in his shoulder as if that would make her stomach quit its cruel churning.

Thomas looked to the young-couple “You’d like to join?” He waved the cards “I can deal you a hand.”. Winston was already checking his cards nodding appreciatively. Atlas didn’t bother asking what they were playing “No, may just ‘ave to bring Moira back up top soon, I won’t interrupt yer game.”. He gave a smile that truly put theirs to shame. Everything about it seemed rather perfect, his straight white teeth certainly were enough to give the man a look of upper class and sophistication. 

The other shrugged and their game went underway. Sure enough just as he had said Atlas found himself back up top with a very woozy Moira about an hour later. She leaned heavily against the railing and her husband while he attempted to soothing rub a hand over her back. It wasn’t the best start to their journey but it could have been much worse, the man tried to think and stay positive. 

Atlas stooped and kissed her forehead “I’ll be back in a mo luv’.”. Moira looked up at him, questioningly one eyebrow raised, her skin with a tinge of the ‘seafaring green’ to it He answered her gaze “Just to take a piss.”. The lady rolled her eyes and soon found that was the wrong thing to do as it made her feel more dizzy and she quickly turned to heave over the side. He held her auburn locks back and once she was finished hurried off to find a lou. 

When Atlas returned not more than a couple minutes (at the most) later he found that same sailor gent who had showed them to their rooms helping Moira. At first he thought to thank the other, but that was when he noticed that he wasn’t only touching her hair to keep it back, his hand was ever just on her hip. Naturally this could have been a slip up, just put his hand on something to rest it, but any benefit of the doubt the man had was dashed to pieces when he saw the burly mans hand travel ever so slightly down, now resting just above her backside. 

Moira had recovered from her reaching long enough to step back from the other, a small hand moving out and pushing at his shoulder. 

Truth be told for a few moments Atlas had been stunned at the blatant way the man went about things. The second Moira moved though her husband was by her side in an instant. Automatically his hand went out and he pushed the other back, with more force than the sickly woman had. The sailor blinked in surprise and confusion, Atlas had just rushed out of no where, and here he was being pushed. The crewman took a few steps back and then glared hard at the Irishman “I was just helpin’ the little lady.”. 

“More like helpin’ yourself TO the little lady.” Atlas growled, his hands in fists as he glared right on back.

“Well you can’t blame me, she’s a pretty one an’ I don’t see many-” His excuse was cut short as he flinched due to Atlas raising one of those fists, ready to knock his teeth out. He was however stopped by Moira grabbing his arm saying “Atlas don’t you dare!”. Now she too was glaring at them, standing firmly between. 

Once the other man realized Atlas wasn’t going to hit him he smirked “Well she’s got you right trained hasn’t-”. The black-haired man started forward “You’d best shut the-” he was pressing hard against Moira to reach the other, and she was pressing just as hard back to stop him “ENOUGH!”.

Atlas stopped at his wifes scream. She was looking like a disapproving mother at the pair of them, when suddenly she blanched and turned around once more, sick again. When she turned back around her body was shaking slightly but her voice was strong, strong as Atlas’ was when he needed it to be “Now the both of you’s will leave each other off. Atlas I’m just fine, there ain’t nothin’ to avenge over…” now she rounded on the sailor “An’ you… If you even so much as think of touchin’ me ‘gain I swear you’ll have more then my husband to answer to.”. 

For such a small woman, she could make quite an imposing figure when she needed it. Not that it was too much work, the other man was a coward at heart anyways and they both knew it.

To give him credit, the crewman did try to hide it “Alright, Mam’.” He said the words with as much contempt as he could muster before leaving them be. 

“You shoulda let me clobber ‘em..” Said Atlas, glaring at the mans retreating back.  
“I don’t want to be what makes you a murderer, Atlas McHoul.” Moira looked up at him and was relieved to see she had managed to crack a smile over his lips. 

“You’re one fine lady.” He said.

“An’ thats why you married me.” She smiled at him.

“Aye, and plenty o’ reasons besides.”.

They returned back below deck for an uneventful time of card-games and conversations before night fell over the grouping and all inhabitants took to their bunks or hammocks. Atlas put to rest the lamp, its light snuffing out to leave them in pitch darkness. Carefully he went over to his and Moiras ‘bed’, a wonderment of netting he hardly believed could hold her weight much less his. Soon he found out that it was made of stronger stuff than he expected so he laid down, Moira laying pressed close to him nearly atop him since they had so little room, using his body as a mattress more comfortable than the ropes that pressed hard into his back. She smiled in the darkness, one hand lazily making patterns over her lovers torso “Goodnight darlin..” She said quietly so as not to disturb the other passengers. 

“Night luv’.”.


End file.
